


Daylight

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Series: Worth a Soul [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything Hurts, Father Son Bonding, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Minor Injuries, bullets and bandages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23291323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: Bruce goes out on patrol for the first time since Trigon. All things considered, it goes well, but he and Jason need to have a heart to heart.
Series: Worth a Soul [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674991
Comments: 4
Kudos: 96





	Daylight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AshWinterGray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshWinterGray/gifts).



> A lovely sequel to go with Heart. Enjoy :)

“Just take it slow.” 

Bruce has never been more tired of hearing that phrase than he is now. Everyone in the family has been looking after him for months, and he’s determined to get back to work. He still experiences the occasional muscle spasm, but nothing near as extreme as the first couple months. 

He takes the few steps there are over to his closet, not missing the days where that was a massive effort. The physical therapy was extensive, and Bruce hated every second of it. 

Well.... Not every second. His sons were there. 

They all took turns, ensuring Bruce was never on his own. An hour of physical therapy a day may as well have been eternal hell if not for his sons. 

Dick always told Bruce about his day. Tim informed him of the goings-on on the streets of Gotham, always detailing it in a boring manner so Bruce wouldn’t be encouraged to go chasing after bad guys. Damian talked to him about school and his weapon training with Cassandra. And Jason.... 

Bruce smiles to himself. 

He never imagined he and Jason would be close again, the boy’s stubbornness rivaling his own. Somehow, he and Jason managed to reconcile. Bruce won’t pretend he doesn’t understand why Jason kills. He does. Every time Bruce thinks about the Joker sitting in Arkham, laughing at him, he deeply and wholly understands. 

“Dad?” 

Bruce startles out of his reverie, turning towards the door. “Yeah?” 

“Can I come in?” 

Bruce chuckles. None of his kids ever bothered asking before, and he makes sure he’s never indecent when they’re in the house. “Yeah. Pretty sure I won’t scar you for life.” 

His second son opens the door, poking his head inside. “I know you’ve been sleeping all day to conserve energy, but do you think you’re ready for a night out on the city’s criminals? I think they’ve suffered with a joke-cracking Batman long enough, don’t you?” 

Bruce hears Dick call to him from the end of the hall. “They’re puns, Jay! It’s more difficult than brooding silently!” 

Jason rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dingbat.” 

Sighing at the two as they start bickering, Bruce slings a shirt over his shoulders. It’s temporary, since he’s just going to slip into his slim under armor once he gets into the Bat-suit. 

He wraps an arm around Jason’s shoulders, ignoring the brief moment where he stiffens. “Come on.” 

His son relaxes, his expression softening. “Let’s go terrorize Gotham’s underworld.” 

“Let’s.” Bruce chuckles. 

It takes all of ten minutes for them to suit up, Bruce’s nerves steadying as he takes up his cowl. It’s been too long since he’s been Batman, and Jason certainly trained with him enough to make sure he was ready. He and Damian both, actually. 

Last night, his sons challenged him to a fight: him against all of them. Bruce knows them too well. They did adjust strategies quite a few times, and Tim certainly added a few things to his armory, but in the end, Bruce had the gift of experience. 

Jason leaps into the Batmobile, Damian begrudgingly sitting in the back seat. “Let’s go already.” 

“I’m coming, kiddo. Just hold your horses.” 

“Only thing I’m holding is the steering wheel if you don’t get over here, so you’d best get moving, old man.” 

Clipping his cape to his shoulders, Bruce slides into the driver’s seat. 

It feels good. Better, actually. 

It’s _right_. 

“Dad? Crime awaits?” 

Bruce chuckles, hitting the gas and leaving the cave behind. Dick and Tim ride out on their bikes behind them. Emerging onto the streets of Gotham is like coming home, and somehow, the streets call to him. Heralding his name. Bruce feels the thrumming in his veins like he hasn’t in years, purpose flowing through him again. 

Bruce never realized how old he felt before his long months of healing. 

Alfred calls them with the first crime of the night. And the second. The third. Throughout all of it, Bruce feels strikingly young. 

Next is a bank robbery in progress, a prime target for roving vigilantes. The first thing Bruce does upon arrival is hunt for a vent, scanning the building with the lenses in the cowl and grinning as he spots his way in. Tim slides down into the sewers without hesitation, headed for the last possible escape route. 

Right as they’re about to go in, Dick gets called in for a night shift. He scowls at his phone, regrettably having to go in. He can only skip so many days, and he used those days over the long days where Bruce was out of commission. Bruce tells him it’s all right when he apologizes, laughing lightly and telling him to get to work. Bruce didn’t raise slackers, so Dick skips off to go to his other job without any more encouragement. 

“Hood, I need you and Robin to take the vent over the northeast exit. Red Robin, when I say, disable all lights and cameras and then infiltrate from the back of the building. I’ll take the front.” 

Tim confirms quietly. “ _I’m in position. Five confirmed_ _hostiles_ _on cameras, maybe more.”_

Batman hums. “I’ll get a scan. Be ready.” 

He slides down from his vent, slipping into the nearest shadow with the grace of his younger years. _So, this is what it feels like when I actually take the proper time to recover. Weird._

“Hood, take the two to your left on entry. Robin, take right. When they go down, Red Robin will get the lights. The ones in the center are armed. I'll take them.” 

Jason chuckles, the sound dark under his modulator. “ _What’s wrong, B? Don’t think we can handle a couple armed thugs?”_

“Negative.” Bruce whispers, a smile in his voice. “Now, Hood.” 

Jason confirms, dropping from the vent with a hail of rubber bullets. Bruce hears Damian’s katana slide free as he leaps at his enemies. 

He leaps a teller’s desk, his boots hitting the first thug. Batman leaps away when they hit the floor, twisting away from him and into the shadows. The other robber, a woman, sprays bullets wildly, letting out a shout of surprise. Bruce is already gone. 

Bruce scans the area for more enemies. “Red Robin, two more coming your way.” 

The whole thing is going swimmingly. 

Until it’s not. 

Three more bandits appear out of nowhere, firing across the bank and forcing Bruce to find cover. When they’re reloading, he leaps out. The woman from before goes down first, followed by the two just behind her. 

Across the room, Jason peers out from behind cover. He sees the last thug raising his weapon on Bruce, his father’s back turned on him. Jason aims, pulling the trigger only to find his mag empty. He swears, leaping an office table, tackling the man, and kicking his gun away. He’s scrappy, but he definitely puts up a fight, socking Jason in the collarbone the first chance he has. Jason yelps when he hears a pop, stumbling back. 

His opponent leaps on him, not expecting Batman to be so quick to pull him off. Bruce tosses the man away, turning to help his son to his feet. Jason scrambles back, reloading his weapon as he tells Bruce to go after him. Injured and not willing to risk the loss of their lives, Jason loads lethal rounds. 

From the back of the bank, Jason hears Tim shout with pain. Damian snarls and Bruce jerks to a stop. 

The man Bruce was after snags his weapon, firing. Bruce is his twice in the shoulder from the reckless spray. Jason takes a round to the chest, slamming onto his back as another shot clips Damian. 

Jason’s chest heaves as he fires his own weapon – two bullets to the chest. 

The robber is dead before he hits the ground. 

Wheezing, he watches with caution as his father picks himself up. “B? You good? Talk to me. Are you hurt, old man?” 

Bruce coughs, shaking his head. “Armor took the bullets. I’m fine. The shooter -” 

“Is definitely not.” Jason groans. 

He looks to his son and Jason can only guess what emotion is behind the lenses of the cowl. Bruce calls out for Red Robin, getting an immediate response. Both he and Damian are fine. 

Jason stays on the floor, the air suddenly heavy around him. 

_What will Bruce say?_

Bruce inspects the corpse on the floor, glancing at Tim as he and his little brother tie up the thugs. There is no mistaking Jason’s intent by the placement of his shots. 

The wide-set figure of his father stops cold when he sees Jason on the ground. “Hood.” 

With a weary thumbs-up, he pulls the catch on his helmet. 

Jason watches Bruce walk over to him with weighty steps, still breathing hard. He crouches next to him, prying the bullet free from his son’s chest piece. Jason grunts with pain, trying hard not to whine as Bruce drags him upright. 

What surprises him is the hug. 

“B?” 

His father says nothing, helping Jason to his feet. Jason hooks his left hand over his opposite shoulder, wincing as it jostles his collarbone. 

“Agent A will check all three of you when we get back to the cave.” 

“Father -” 

Bruce turns to his youngest. “Don’t argue with me, Robin.” 

The four of them leave the criminals for the police to pick up, heading back to the cave. He keeps a watchful eye on Jason as he rubs his chest and glances back at Tim as he helps Damian inspect his arm. It doesn’t look bad, but the wound is still bleeding. His brother dabs at it with a cloth, cleaning out the wound even though they both know Alfred will do the same thing. 

They’ve been taking care of Bruce constantly in recent months, but they’ve also gotten better at taking care of each other. It wasn’t something he ever thought to expect. 

Something that feels distinctly like pride throbs through Bruce’s chest. 

Once they reach the cave, Alfred is ready for them. He treats Damian’s wound again, wrapping it in pristine white bandages with steady hands. Jason sits on a gurney, his shirt pulled up as he lets Bruce listen to his lungs. Tim applies a soothing cream to the deepening bruise on his chest, Jason wincing as the cold hits his skin. Bruce brings him a long-sleeve shirt, knowing he’ll likely want to be rid of the chilly feeling as soon as possible. Bruce gently checks his collarbone, Jason grimacing a little but saying he's fine.

When his brothers are all out of ear-shot and Alfred has gone upstairs, Jason looks at Bruce. 

“I know you’re pissed. I know I -” 

Bruce wraps his arms around Jason’s shoulders, one of his hands pushing up into his son’s hair. He quiets the boy, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

“But I -” 

“Jason.” Bruce says, just enough Batman in his tone to get Jason to stop. “You....” He shakes his head, holding his son close for a few moments longer before putting him at arm’s length. “You and I are different, sweetheart.” 

His son still, praying Bruce isn’t about to send him away. 

“We live by different rules, and I think....” Bruce sighs. “Looking back, I think we always have. I never could see things your way, living with entirely different childhoods. Sometimes, I think a part of me understands that your version of the world is clearer than mine.” 

Jason’s brow furrows. 

“The world I fight for, an ideal world, is one where the need for Batman is gone. That’s what I fight for on the streets each night. You see the world as it is, and for that, all I ever gave you was grief.” 

“I never meant to disappoint you.” 

Bruce carefully lifts a hand to the side of his son’s face. “You didn’t. Maybe once, I might have thought you killed just to spite me -” 

Jason tilts his head, his expression indicating those words might not be entirely untrue. 

“But I understand now. I spent your years as Robin trying to fix you, but there was nothing wrong with you to begin with. How could I take away your right to choose what you believe?” 

“Dad, it’s not like -” 

“Hey. Jason, I need you to hear what I’m telling you. I should never have expected you to be just like me. Not when the person I wanted was, and still is, _you_. If I couldn't accept who you were, then I shouldn't have adopted you. You are my son, no matter what.” 

Jason is silent. 

Bruce isn’t sure what exactly what he expected from the boy, but silence was not really what he had in mind. 

His son takes another second to himself before surging forwards. Bruce’s arms wrap around him again out of surprise, but he relaxes when Jason starts shaking. He plants another kiss on top of Jason’s head, hushing him. 

“There is nothing wrong with who you are, and I am _so_ sorry I ever tried to tell you there was.” He buried his face in Jason’s hair. “ _I’m so sorry, baby.”_

Jason clings to him, curling his fists into the thick fabric of Bruce’s cape. The boy chokes out a sob, murmuring that he loves him - that he forgives him. 

“I could live a thousand lives and never deserve you.” 


End file.
